My man
by AirborneGirl
Summary: Sequel to Stay away from my man. Making amends isn't always that easy.


**My man**

**AN**: To be honest, I never meant there to be a sequel to "Stay away from my man", but after all my faithful and supportive reviewers asked me to, I am happy to come up with one. Hope you appreciate it.

**AN II**: To the reviewer calling her/himself "Blood Dragon": I can see where you're coming from, though I don't agree with you on everything you stated. I know enough about trust and fear to have some understanding for a character like Mac. I only wished for her to see the truth the way I see it and what other way than a fan fiction?

**Spoilers**: After "Back in the Saddle".

**Disclaimer**: Still waiting for my healthy portion of DJE, but nothing so far...oh well...

_Here we go..._

"Nervous?"

The blond woman behind the steering wheel turned her head to the brunette fidgeting next to her, concluding that her question was a gross understatement. The curt nod she recieved as an answer was all the affirmation she got and needed.

How strange. When the two of them had literally bumped into each other at the mall an hour ago, Catherine Gale wasn't even sure she liked the other woman. Whatever happened after that, especially their private conversation, was triggered by her strong feeling of sympathy for the Naval Commander who was her friend. And who happened to be desperately in love with said other woman.

Now that her initial annoyance at Mac's oblivion had almost faded to the background, she only felt sorry for her. Colonel Sarah MacKenzie more than obviously returned the sentiments of Harmon Rabb in full force, but just never allowed herself to notice and subsequently recognize and appreciate the actions that should have told her how he felt about her. Instead, focussed on both their shortcomings rather than their qualities, she couldn't let go of her need to hear the words coming from his mouth.

Sure, even Catherine had to admit that hearing those three little words, especially from the man you loved, was a gift that had to be cherished, but being a person of action herself, she also believed that actions often spoke louder than words, if only you were willing to listen. And thank God Mac was finally tuning in. Nervous, but tuning in.

She delibirately double-parked her car in front of Harm's appartment building, thus not allowing Mac to hesitate too long.

"Ready to go in?"

Again, her glance answered her own question. Stiff as a board, white as a ghost, Mac sat next to her, not moving an inch.

"Mac? I'm risking a ticket here, so you'd better get out there."

"Cath, I..."

Okay. Peptalk time. Not forgetting she was addressing a Marine, she used her most stern voice.

"You get out of this car, get in there, talk to the man, or better, let your own actions talk and don't leave before tomorrow. Better yet, don't leave at all. Now go!"

Much to her own surprise, Mac obeyed and got out. Before she could chicken out, Catherine mouthed 'Good luck', gave her a thumbs up and sped off. It was all up to her now.

Mac took the stairs to his floor (of course the elevator was jammed) and walked up to his door, like she had done hundreds of times during their partnership. But where she would usually knock and barge in before he could answer, she now halted her fist in mid-air, letting it drop uselessly beside her trembling body.

First, she had to come up with an excuse. He might not let her come inside if she couldn't give him a plausible explanation to her coming here on a Saturday afternoon. Well, she supposed she could always tell him she needed a file from the Imes' cases that would need a retrial. But if he asked her which one, he would pierce right through her, as she had no clue which ones he was working on. She didn't know any names by heart.

She swallowed, hard, reminding herself that she didn't have to be afraid. This was Harm, her (once) best friend Harm. She'd never needed an excuse before, why would she need one now? Angry, she wiped the tears from her eyes. It was just so depressing to realize they had come to that point; the point where she thought she had to have a solid reason to be there, other than to just hang out. She bit her lower lip to shreds to prevent herself from whimpering. Boy, how she missed those days, how she missed him.

If only she'd listened, if only she'd seen, heard, realized, waited, if only...but if only's were of little use and there simply were too many of them.

Finally, giving herself a good Marine mental kick, whispering a silent "Semper Fi" , she squared her shoulders and knocked.

The door opened. Not widely, as usual, but just an inch or so. The guarded, weary eyes of the man she loved met hers.

Without a word, he opened the door further in silent, albeit reluctant invitation and for a moment, she stood there rooted to the spot, before gathering courage enough to step inside. But even as she closed the door behind her and leaned against it for much needed support, he didn't look at her or in any other way acknowledged her presence.

Silence took a seat between them, bringing its brothers in arms in its wake. Pain, hostility and regret. A lethal quartet.

"What do you want, Mac?"

Defeat joined in as soon as he opened his mouth. Even if he hadn't meant it to come out so harsh, it had and he clearly wasn't about to change it. His back was turned to her like she wasn't important enough to pay any more attention to. She could see the muscles in his neck and shoulderblades strain violently and her hands itched to give him a backrub, like she had done so many times after he came home from a flying mission.

Those times they'd been so close, both emotionally and physically. Those times she had allowed herself to believe that, eventually, they would make it together. Not this time, though, not when every inch of his body was strained, warning her not to get any closer, protecting his soul like an armor. And like every other thing, Mac couldn't blame him for this action either.

Still, he'd asked her a question, given her an opening, allbeit a small one. She had to take it as she didn't know how many of them she would get, but fearing there might not be too many of them.

"I want us to talk. We need to. Or rather, I need to."

He turned to her, but her relief was short-lived as she saw his expression. His condescending smirk gave his usually handsome features something ugly and menacing. It didn't become him, even frightened her, but she couldn't tell him so. She didn't have a right to. After all, she put it there herself.

"I thought we agreed that everything was said. In fact, too much was said."

She hadn't agreed, even though she had to admit he was certainly right about the latter part. Too much was said with the one word 'never'. But sadly, she needed to say more, a lot more.

She didn't get a chance.

"So if that's all, I'd like to get back to work. I'll see you at the office on Monday."

Dismissed.

Just like that, she was dismissed. From his home, from his life, from his thoughts. From his heart? She didn't want to know, was afraid of the answer. She felt she could faint when he brushed past her to open the door, indicating he really wanted her to leave now.

Resigned, defeated and sick to her stomach, Mac turned to accept his refusal and get out of there with whatever was left of her heart, wondering whether the liquor store was still open. She never thought she'd allow herself to fall off the wagon, but today, she couldn't care less.

Then, Harm made a rookie mistake. He looked up. Their eyes locked and both saw. The pain they'd inflicted, the destruction, the loss...

The door was left ajar, but Mac saw the opportunity in his hesitation and took it greedily. She began talking, or rather babbling, not caring that meanwhile she was heaving, wheezing, crying, blubbering, whatever.

"I never thanked you, did I? I never thanked you for your friendship, your faith in me, your protection, your chivalry, your charm. I took it in stride and never even tried to read between the lines. I've been deaf to the unspoken feelings, blind when it came to your actions, or what motivated them. All the while, I consciously misread every signal you threw at me and ended up hurting us both to the point where even our friendship is hanging by a thread..."

She took a much needed breath, but plunged on immediately, afraid to lose his attention, which at least she had now.

"I'm sorry for that Harm, more sorry than I can tell you. I can understand if this means the end of our friendship and I have nothing or nobody to blame but myself. I'll just...I'll miss you. I already do..."

There was nothing left to say. He'd been right all along. She fled to the safety of the hallway, but just before he wanted to close the door on her, she turned, giving him a sad smile.

"Remember when I asked you why you came to rescue me in Paraguay? You told me I knew why. I do know why, have known for years probably. I just never...got it."

He hadn't closed the door yet, was in fact hanging on to it for leverage. The only visible sign that this affected him too. Last chance, last glimmer of hope, very last straw. Again, Mac latched onto it. Struggling to summon up the courage to look him in the eyes, she brought her closing arguments to an end.

"I get it now. Too little, too late, I know, but...I need you to know...I love you too."

No answer. Not with words. Harm didn't use words, he used actions. The action he chose to take now resulted in giving her a last pained look before pushing his door shut with deafening silence.

Mac tried to walk away, ordering her legs to move, but her brain was detached from the rest of her body and her limbs were unresponsive to her demands. Wobbling, she took one step, then two...it was as far as she got. Her knees succumbed first, then her back gave in and it was all the way down from there.

She slumped against the wall next to the door, sobbing and shaking, hissing and moaning in pain, unaware that on the other side of the wall, Harm mirrored her action precisily, cursing while trying to wipe his own tears from his cheeks.

Minutes passed. Wrecked as she was, Mac never heard the curse coming from the other side of the door, never heard him open it again. But suddenly a shadow loomed over her, another curse was muttered and next thing she knew, she felt deliciously weightless as Harm picked her up from the floor and cradled her against his broad chest.

He took her back inside, sat down on the couch with her, holding onto her, clinging to her trembling body for dear life, all the while letting his own tears fall without shame.

Finally, after many more minutes (her clock gone haywire) both were completely drained. What was left was a gasping, shuddering mess of two people closely pulled in an all but smothering embrace. Until she again looked up at him, realizing she was where she always wanted to be. Snuggled against him, warm and comfortable...and loved.

Lost for words as she saw the plain and simple truth in his eyes, she came to a decision. Maybe she could use his method herself. Use it on him. Without holding back and before she lost her guts in the process she captured his lips with her own.

Sighing, he gave in without a struggle, almost crushing her as he pulled her flush against his big, warm body. She moaned from the close contact, but moaned harder when he tried to pull back in order to let both of them breathe again. Who needed to breathe? Oxygen was highly overrated.

With the sheer force eminating from despair, she yanked his head down and he smiled for the first time in months. Not the flyboy smirk, not the condescending one she hated so much, but the real lovesick smile that she needed to see. And hear, for now all sences were wide open for reception.

He gently put his finger against her slightly parted lips to stop another cry forming on them, before he stood and lifted her from the couch again. Without a glimmer of doubt he carried her to his bedroom, where they showed without talking just how much being together meant to them.

So she didn't leave before the next morning. In fact, she didn't leave at all...

A few days later...

Catherine Gale couldn't hide the smile glued to her face as she accepted the wonderful bouquet of fresh flowers from the delivery boy and signed with a flourish. Putting the delicate chrystal vase on her desk, she took out the card nesteled in between the thick yellow rose buds. And allowed herself a huge grin and a whoop of joy when she read it. Mission accomplished.

_Dear Catherine,_

_Thank you._

_Harm & Sarah._

Six words. That was all. But it was enough. Only when she closed the card, did she see the words quickly scribbled on the backside. Curious, she read them.

_He still hasn't said the words...but I hear them clearly._

Catherine Gale nodded in herself, sliding one hand over her tummy.

"We should go over to the mall more often..."

That's it, the end...


End file.
